


Mama, Mama, Mama

by Jafars_apologist



Category: The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee - Finn/Sheinkin/Reiss
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Pregnancy, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jafars_apologist/pseuds/Jafars_apologist
Summary: Olive's dad kicked her out when he found out she was pregnant at 17. She gets help from unexpected sources.
Relationships: Olive Ostrovsky/Marcy Park, William Barfée/Olive Ostrovsky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my addition to the 25th annual fandom! English is not my native language, so ironically, I can't spell big words to save my life. Please don't only forgive but also correct my mistakes - I need help passing for an English speaker on the internet!

Olive didn't expect her father to kick her out after hearing the news. Then again, she didn't expect much from him at all.

He noticed it himself - this was rare, David Ostrovsky noticing something about Olive that didn't have anything to do with her plummeting grades, but then again, there was only so much an oversized overall could do for her four-month belly.

"Olive, baby, I couldn't help but notice you were becoming… bigger recently," he carefully started.

She shrugged. How much longer could she keep it a secret? Maybe at least for the night.

"I'm growing," she said, cramming a twizzler in her mouth in an effort to both not say anything else and not chew on her hair, a habit her father found childish and disgusting. Twizzlers, long and curly-shaped, were a convenient substitute for her brown, twisting mane.

"You see, baby, I think you are growing something else."

Olive shrugged. "An apatite?"

David's brown eyes pierced Olive's nearly identical pair. "A baby, Olive."

"It's more of a fetus," Olive said matter of factly, immediately slapping her hand over her mouth.

"Well, can you still get rid of it?"

Olive's eyes grew wide, her hand instinctively rushing to protect her overall clad belly.

"I won't," she clarified. David shook his head.

"Look, baby, your mother and I had you when we were still in highschool," he said, probably trying to explain himself.

"And I turned out great!"

"But your mom didn't!"

"How dare you."

Mama wasn't necessarily dead. She just stopped calling one day. She could be anywhere, really. A few months after they stopped hearing from her, Olive and her father gave up the search.

"I'm sorry, but - see, this is what happens when children have their own children! Many people get hurt!"

"I'm not like Mama. I'll do better."

"Will you at least consider adoption?"

Olive toyed with another twizzler.

"No," she said. "That's my child, I'm going to raise them."

"Well, I can't support this decision, Olive, do you understand?"

"I suppose this is goodbye then," she said before the tact-maintaining twizzler had a chance to enter her mouth.

Olive knew this day would come. She had a suitcase ready with her favourite, most comfortable clothes, her trusty dictionary and every important document she could think of. She had around four hundred dollars saved from various part time jobs and babysitting gigs she started taking after she understood her condition and wanted to gain experience.

She didn't have friends to crash with, but sitting in her room, in a last ditch effort, she messaged someone on Facebook.

_Hey, Logainne, I know we didn't see each other for four years, but my dad kicked me out… can I crash at your place for tonight?_

The typing bubble appeared immediately.

_Of course Olive Ostrovsky! Here's my addy :)_

One Uber ride later, Olive found herself in front of something on the thin line between a suburban house and a mansion. A blonde girl stood outside, in the well maintained garden, energetically waving. Knowing Logainne was an only child with two fathers, this had to be her.

Five years did wonders to the little nervous girl Olive remembered from the contest. Now fifteen years old, Logainne stood several inches taller. Her old uptight two-braids hairstyle gave way to blonde, straight hair that ran freely all the way to her ears. She now suffered from acne and had a much more relaxed outfit - it should be noted, Olive reminded herself, that this wasn't a spelling contest, but a weeknight at 10 pm.

She didn't hesitate to give Olive a sorely needed crushing hug.

"Oh! Did your dad throw you out because of the baby?"

With the lisp gone, Logainne's keen observation was even more piercing. Olive gave her a shy smile.

"How far along are you?"

"Four months and a week. Thanks for taking me in, Logainne."

"No problem! Dad Carl and Dad Dan are on a vacation. Let me take that suitcase to the guest room!"

Logainne got over the baby shock rather quickly, although she did insist that Olive has to let her plan the baby shower. Clad in fuzzy pyjamas, the girls shared steaming cups of tea and popcorn. Bring it On was playing in the background, but they hardly gave it any attention.

Olive wiggled her toes inside her panda-print socks. Her hand rested under the swell of her belly. For a fugitive, she felt rather comfortable.

"So, is Will the dad?" Logainne had caught her off guard.

"What?"

"Will Barfee? You were flirting at the Bee?"

Logainne said as if all Olive needed was a reminder.

"I heard he's super hot now, not that it matters at all - "

"He's not… I haven't heard from him in… four years maybe?"

"Oh," she sounded disappointed.

"Well, it's fine, I guess. I gather it's not a boyfriend, or you wouldn't be here."

Olive shrugged.

"Were you assaulted?" Logainne's tone became serious and she grabbed Olive's hand gently. Olive smiled.

"I wasn't. It was a mistake, that's all. But I'm happy about it."

"So am I! I joined a teen mom advocacy group when you were in the shower, we're going to stand in front of Planned Parenthood clinics and offer teen girls emotional support and resources - "

"Logainne, you shouldn't have - "

"Of course, I always supported a woman's right to bodily anatomy and to a society free of judgment. You know how society treats single mothers? But I didn't join the group before I was a FOPT."

"A what?"

"Friend of a Pregnant Teen," Logainne explained.

"I'm glad you are my friend, Logainne," Olive admitted, and decided to keep her opinions about the girl's over involvement for when she didn't depend on her to keep a roof over her head.

"Hey, did you end up winning the Bee?"

"Not yet, but I'm trying again next year. You are eligible to apply until you're seventeen, you know."

"Good luck! I could study with you if you want," Olive offered.

"That would be fun! But you should know I don't do this to win. It will look amazing in my college application. Also I love spelling."

"Yeah, so do I. Spell apostleship?"

The girls quizzed each other until they fell asleep in Logainne's large bed.

"Logainne, you should've said something!"

Olive jolted into alertness. This was a pity - she enjoyed cuddling with the half-stranger who was Logainne, in silk sheets that smelled flowery. Two men were standing at the door. One of them was white, short and blonde, and the other black and much bigger. Olive vougly remembered seeing the men, so she assumed they were Logainne's fathers.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Logainne, although she woke up by the very same occurrence as Olive, was already on her feet.

"Baby girl, you know we of all people would accept - " said the black father, either Carl or Dan.

"No, I told you I'm bi, but dads, that's my friend Olive. She came for a sleepover last night!"

"I told you she has friends," said the white dad. While Olive was slightly offended for Logainne, not one of the family members responded to the statement.

"Olive and I were going to make pancakes. When did you two arrive?"

"Oh, baby, you wouldn't believe the weather. When we got there, all we wanted was to get home."

The three left the room, allowing Olive time to freshen up in the ensuite. Thank God, morning sickness was a thing of the past in the blessed second trimester, and while she did grow into some habits - namely keeping snacks at her bedside table and taking long morning showers - Olive did not miss it. After tying her hair up in a truly hideous messy bun and brushing her teeth she took a glance at her phone.

Olive didn't expect any notifications, and she was almost right. Nothing from her father, of course. But she did receive a text from a number she didn't have saved to her phone.

 _Olive, this is Marcy Park. Logainne S &G made a post about you on basically every single social media. If you need a place to live, I have an apartment, I'll text you the address if you are interested_.

Olive didn't know what to feel. A social media post? Of course Logainne would do that, but Olive didn't find it in herself to be mad. This must've been the most exciting thing that happened to the girl in months in terms of social justice.

Another interesting detail: how did Marcy get her phone number? Olive wasn't on any social media herself.

Should she be mad at Logainne? She didn't even ask for permission on one hand, but on the other, the pregnancy wasn't really a secret from anyone besides her father, there just wasn't anyone Olive wanted to tell. If telling the world about it brought Olive the support she needed - more permanent lodging, most importantly - wasn't it a good thing?

Olive was shaken out of her thoughts by the commission downstairs. She tiptoed her way to the stairs, the lush carpet assisting her in this endeavour. From her place atop the stairs, she could just barely hear the conversation.

"She's a bad influence on you! Your dad and I want her out as soon as possible."

"But Dan dad, she's pregnant and really needs our help!"

Olive didn't wait to hear more. She snuck back into her room, changed back into her overall and packed her suitcase. Within the minute she was packed and ready, and shot Marcy a text.

_Yes, please. Where are you?_


	2. Chapter 2

The apartment was tiny. That was Olive's first impression. Not exactly cramped, as Marcy had only the bare essentials, but definitely minimal.  
"I graduated last year," Marcy supplied, swiftly sorting Olive's clothing into a free shelf in the closet. "Didn't want to head to college, so I got a job writing code for an information security company."  
"Of course you can code."  
"It's just another language."  
"Is this how you got my number?"  
Marcy looked up to her. "I'm a writer, not a hacker. I asked Logainne."  
Olive smiled.  
"You're really going to let me stay?"  
Marcy shrugged.  
"Can you cook?"  
"Yeah."  
"I can't. So I'd like you to stay."  
Olive raised her eyebrow. "That's hard to believe."  
"Fine. I can. I need a friend though."  
Satisfied, olive plopped down to the bed. "I could use a friend too."

Marcy was extremely generous. She dropped Olive off at her school every morning even though she could've slept another twenty minutes if she hadn't. She didn't ask Olive for rent money, she made whatever Olive was in the mood for for dinner every night, and she let Olive share her space, however small. That space included the one-and-a-half person bed that had them cuddling in their sleep more often than not.  
Olive, on her part, kept the place clean and tidy. She'd get home around four every day, while Marcy worked until seven at the very least. To avoid feeling like a housewife waiting for her teenage, lady husband to come home, she tried to get a job.  
Restaurants wouldn't hire her due to her condition, and so did retail stores. Most parents didn't want her tutoring or babysitting their kids - as if she'd set a bad example just by being pregnant! Even the library said they weren't looking for help, and that the sign at the front was irrelevant.  
Olive was too proud to ask her father for help, but she was running out of bus money, her initial stash dwindling, and she needed to pay for the hospital stay for the birth and the check ups before and after.  
Leaf came as a blessing from above.

It turned out he transferred to her highschool in the beginning of the year, but being so busy with the baby, she didn't notice the sophomore that honestly looked nothing like his twelve year old self. He no longer wore a helmet and a cape, and being a part of the football team used up much of his energy, so he bounced a bit less. His hair was still bright red, though, and he still had his lopsided smile. Olive should've noticed him.  
He didn't introduce himself that day - simply threw his body carelessly into a seated position next to her.  
"You're looking for a job?"  
She looked up from her text conversation with Marcy, the "I left you some pizza in the fridge, working late tonight" remaining unanswered with a heart emoji, surprised to see a sort-of-familiar face.  
"Hello, what's your name?"  
The familiar lopsided smile ringed a bell in Olive's brain, but not enough to make her remember.  
"Leaf Coneybear," he said and shook her hand extremely enthusiastically, taking her arm all the way to the shoulder into the move.  
"Leaf! How are you?"  
"Pretty good! I started real school!"  
His excitement was infecting Olive as well.  
"That's so great!"  
"Yeah! I have more friends than I thought possible! And they are all so nice! In the team they call me Leap instead of Leaf because I jumped so high once I did a backflip and the crowd went crazy - anyway, job!"  
"Yeah, how do you know about that?"  
"You're in Marigold's English class, she saw your notebook."  
"Marie Coneybear - I should've remembered!"  
"It's alright!"  
"Wait, so none of you are in homeschool anymore?"  
"That's what I came to tell you! Gummy bears?" He pulled a pack seemingly out of his pocket, though it was too big to fit. Olive didn't care. She'd been craving them for some time now, and shoved some into her mouth.  
"So, my sister Landscape is ten, and she wants to start school next year, in sixth grade I think. But she has a thing with numbers, she doesn't like them at all, except for counting our cats." Leaf stood up, having reached his quota of sitting time. "She's really smart, though. And you're smart too! I'd teach her myself, but she doesn't want to listen to her brother. So my mom said we could pay you! Wanna come over tonight and talk it over with my parents and Landscape?"  
Olive's smile was hurting her cheeks.

Olive almost trampled Marcy in a hug when the shorter girl returned to the apartment that night.  
"I got a job!" She exclaimed.  
"You don't have to - "  
"I want to. It's with kids, too, I'm tutoring two Coneybear children. Not exactly the immediately relevant age range, but I think I could use the experience!" Olive, tactile as she was, didn't let go of Marcy's hand, and to her surprise the other girl didn't shift to move away. Instead, she ran her finger over the back of Olive's hand.  
Olive cleared her throat. "Miss Coneybear made me take leftovers from dinner. There's pasta and tomato sauce in the fridge, and also some vegan cake."  
"Wait, isn't Coneybear another spelling kid?"  
Olive looked confused.  
"Yeah, he's that kid in the cape. You don't remember?"  
Marcy shrugged. "I only remembered you and Logainne. I tend to ignore boys." She placed her bag neatly by the door and took off her shoes before sprawling on the bed. Olive, already showered, took it as an invitation to join her.  
"Movie night?" She asked.  
"You'll fall asleep."  
"You'll have entertainment though," Olive tried her hand at puppy eyes. Marcy looked unimpressed.  
"Fine. A chick flick."  
While not exactly a textbook example of the genre, the girls settled for Juno. Marcy showered, which always took three minutes or less, while Olive made popcorn, and the movie was on.  
"She's like you, you know," Marcy noted. "Obviously gay, although evidently had het relations."  
"It's called bisexuality," Olive said. She didn't exactly tell anyone about her own bisexuality, but she assumed Marcy would be unfazed by the reveal.  
To her surprise, Marcy went quiet and swallowed to try and relive her dry throat with an equally dry mouth.  
"I'm gay," she said finally, her voice surprisingly full of emotion - was it excitement? Fear? Tenderness? Olive couldn't tell.  
"I assumed," Olive assured her.  
Marcy looked like she was going to say something else, but instead cuddled Olive as the big spoon, smaller as she was. Olive laid her head over Marcy's arm.  
"Place your bet," she said. "Will I make it until she meets that nasty adoptive father?"  
"Not a chance," Marcy said, her voice cold again. "I give you until she finishes the chair speech."  
"Have some faith in me, you fiend!"  
Olive felt Marcy smile against the back of her neck.  
She didn't, however, make it until the end of the chair speech.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the long wait! I'm on a trek and it's going to take a few months, but when inspiration hits it hits, and I just couldn't leave this story...  
> Thank you to everyone who read this story and left a kudus/comment! I didn't expect anyone to read this story as the fandom is so tiny, but seeing that you do gives me so much motivation to write more and better. So thanks!

With a steaming cup of mint tea in one hand and a ginger cookie in the other, olive slid to the chair next to Marcy and her laptop. She really tried not to peek, but as always, she did.  
"Morning, Olive," was Marcy's only response.  
"And a good one. Apartments?"  
Marcy looked back to her screen for a second, then returned Olive's curious gaze.  
"The baby isn't going to fit in here. I read up about it, they need all kinds of things."  
Olive took a sip too large and too soon. She hoped it was the reason for the tingle of dread in her stomach, as well as the burning sensation in her mouth.  
"I'll find another place - "  
"So I thought we should move to a more serious place, the three of us."  
"Wait, what?"  
"You thought I was kicking you out?"  
Olive took a curl out of her mouth, the reason for nervous chewing seemingly gone. "Yeah?"  
Marcy shut her laptop down and focused her full attention on Olive, whose hand was in the familiar position over her truly massive belly.  
"Why would I do that to my girlfriend?"  
"Girlfriend?" Olive felt her face heat up.  
Now it was Marcy's turn to stammer.  
"Yes? I mean, I know we take things slow, but I thought… the other night you told me you liked girls, and ever since you give me little forehead kisses and make me cookies and we hold hands so much…"  
"I think I'd like it," Olive said, stopping Marcy's spiral. "You as my girlfriend, I mean."  
"Really?"  
Olive didn't answer with words. Instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips gently to Marcy's. They were soft, albeit narrow. Quite the small target, but one that Olive was pleased to hit.  
When she pulled away, Marcy's expression was odd.  
"I'm sorry - "  
But she was not. This wasn't Olive's first kiss, but it was the one that made her realize oh, that was what they were talking about. That's why the heroine in books would say that time slowed down, or that there were only the two kissing people left in the world.  
"I don't like mint," Marcy said, and Olive was surprised to find herself in the apartment and not in some magical realm, one that felt more fitting for the lightheadedness she felt.  
The apartment had its own magic, she reminded herself.  
"I'll kiss you again after I eat something else then, girlfriend," Olive said, the word rolling proudly off her mouth.  
"You'd better," Marcy said, a smile hidden behind her palm, and returned to the apartment hunt.

"The ones with the rubber on top look so comfy," Marcy said, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. "And you can get, like, a jeans version, for date nights."  
"That's what I was thinking! Although, check out this dress," Olive held out a knee-length, light purple dress, that was stretchy and wide enough to fit the maternity section of the department store.  
"Your legs would get cold," Marcy noted, ever so practically. Olive knew, however, how to make her blush.  
"That's what you're there for," she said, achieving not only the intended result but a playful punch to her arm, which she pretended that hurt.

The girls left the shop with three pairs of pants, a breastfeeding shirt - a little early for Olive's taste, but Marcy reminded her that shopping trips would only get less comfortable from now on - and the purple dress. Olive insisted on a milkshake and fries, so Marcy went to get some because the smell of the food court could still make Olive feel sick. She sat on a bench to wait and make sure Logainne and Leaf were still coming to the housewarming party that night.  
That's how he first saw her - alone, eight months pregnant with a bag of maternity clothes and a curl in her mouth, texting.  
The girl by his side was sharp enough to follow his gaze.  
"Who's that?"  
"Just a girl I was friends with as a kid," he replied, struggling to take his eyes off her. He's never seen her so at peace.  
"Go and say hi then," his date, Chloe, prompted.  
That, he should do. But even though he had the school's cheer captain on his arm, William Barfee was nervous.  
She was, as always, kind. Even from twenty feet away, he could tell she would be nice to him, no matter how awful he was to her.  
And she was seventeen, just one year younger than him. Not threatening in the least.  
He was still a little pale when he went to talk to her, and his hand, no longer holding Chloe's, was starting to sweat.

"Hi Olive!"  
Olive didn't know who this man was or why did he know her name.  
"Uhh… hi, stranger!"  
"I'm William, William Barfee," he stammered.  
"Oh, Will! I didn't recognize you!"  
He chuckled, embarrassed, his cheeks flushed red.  
"Yeah, I…"  
"Grew up to be very handsome, like your mom said."  
Why did she say that? Olive wanted to slap her mouth shut, but settled on another curl.  
William still seemed uncomfortable.  
"I guess," he said.  
"So, what are you doing at the mall?" She tried to promote.  
"On a date with this girl over there," he waved at Chloe, who looked like every girl who was mean to Olive - tall, blonde, doesn't exactly get straight A's. She looked rather impatient, too. Olive found that seeing the girl calmed her. She wouldn't know what to do if someone, even someone she knew could be a good guy like William, was hitting on her. She was never taken before, and still didn't know the protocols.  
"So… pregnant," William started.  
"Yeah, eight months now, about ready to pop. I finished highschool, at least."  
"Congrats," he said, awkward as ever.  
"What about you?"  
"First year of college," he supplied. "I'm studying pre-med," he added as an afterthought.  
"Really? That's a big deal! You're going to be a doctor!"  
"In, like, ten years," he reminded her.  
She shrugged. "It's still awesome. I always wanted to be a mom, so after that," she tapped on her belly, "I don't know what I'm going to do."  
"Well, it's going to be a lot of work once it's out," he said, evidently trying to cheer her up.  
"You're kinder than you were," she said before thinking. He didn't seem surprised.  
"Yeah, I get that a lot. I was pretty awful as a kid."  
"Doesn't matter now."  
He smiled at her, and they sat, content with silence for a moment.  
"Where do you live?"  
"We just moved to Creek Park," she said, still excited about the change. With the last of the boxes unpacked, the two-bedroom apartment, with room for an actual nursery and a full sized oven, started to feel like home. It was a bit further away from Marcy's job, but it was spacious and quiet, just what they needed.  
"Oh, you live with the father?" He seemed not to like the idea, though Olive didn't understand why.  
"Kind of. Do you remember Marcy Park?"  
The conversation must have grown long, because his date strutted over with a pout.  
"Babe, what's going on?"  
"She's my friend, Chloe, Jesus."  
"Doesn't look like it. It kinda looks like you'd rather spend time with her and not me."  
"Chloe - "  
"I'm tired of waiting for you, Will."  
He didn't make much of an effort to go after her.  
"Isn't she your girlfriend?"  
"Chloe? No. Just a highschool kid who had a crush on me."  
"Right. So I'm not sorry."  
"No need to be. Listen, I live by the university, so - "  
"Oh, right next to Creek Park?"  
"Yeah, inside it actually, so if you need anything, I'll give you my phone number, okay?"  
Olive gladly gave him her phone and he typed in his number.  
"Nice to meet you, William!"  
"Yeah, nice to meet you too, Olive. Maybe we'll meet again someday? For lunch?"  
"I'll see. Bye!"  
The moment his chiseled form left her sight, Marcy took his place, her pale hand gripping a bag from Macdonald's.  
"We're leaving. Can you drive us home?"  
"Sure, baby. What's wrong?"  
Marcy was shaking and pale as if she'd seen a ghost. She gripped Olive's wrist.  
"Please, let's just go."

The drive home was short but silent, with all of Olive's efforts to hold Marcy's hand or hug her getting a flinch in response. As soon as she parked, Marcy rushed up the stairs to open the door. Olive took a while longer to gather the bags and climb up the stairs, an effort that felt heroic in her condition, but when she made it to the apartment she could still hear the barfing sounds from the bathroom. She rushed over there. Marcy's hair was up in a high ponytail, as always, so she only brought her a glass of water. She sat on the edge of the bath and ran her palm on her girlfriend's sweaty forehead.  
"Love, what's wrong?"  
"Don't tell me you've never seen a panic attack," Marcy groaned.  
"I had my share, but what brought it on?" The shaking seemed to subdue, so she helped Marcy to her feet. The other girl leaned on the sink, her form drained and exhausted.  
"You were flirting, Olive," she accused.  
"What - do I need to remind you that I have a perfect girlfriend?"  
For the first time Olive saw it, tears started streaming from Marcy's eyes.  
"I thought it wouldn't happen to me anymore. I haven't had an attack since I left my parents… I just got so scared!" She said weakly. "That you'd leave me, and I won't have you anymore, you'll go to some square looking man with all the muscles - "  
Olive got up, took Marcy's head between her hands and held it close to her chest.  
"I don't want to leave you for some man," she stated.  
"I know it sounds stupid, but I couldn't stop my thoughts - "  
"I love you, Marcy," Olive continued.  
This seemed to stop her spiral.  
"You do?"  
"I do. I know it's a little early, we've only been together for two months - "  
"Three months - "  
"That I knew of - "  
"I love you too, Olive," Marcy confessed, blushing.  
"Brush your teeth so I can kiss you?"  
Marcy smiled.  
"I think the panic is over."  
"Great. Do you want me to cancel tonight?"  
"No, let Leaf and Logainne come. Maybe I'll be the one to fall asleep watching the movie, though."  
Olive gave her a peck on the forehead. "Couldn't hold myself. Brush your teeth already, I want my kiss."


End file.
